


If You Like Pina Coladas

by phichithamsters



Series: SeungChuChu Week 2020 [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (and sober ones as well), Accidental B99 References, Day 1: Friendship, Drunk Seung Gil, Drunk confessions, Four Continents Figure Skating Championships, M/M, SCCweek20, Seungchuchu Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22536610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phichithamsters/pseuds/phichithamsters
Summary: Phichit was familiar with the stages of drunk Seung Gil. First, there was angry Seung Gil, where the smallest things would set him off. Next came subdued Seung Gil, where he’d get quiet and wistful and drop ancient Korean proverbs in the middle of conversations, often without prompting. Next came sleepy Seung Gil, who would suddenly fall asleep wherever he was (Phichit even caught him sleeping while standing once). The naps only lasted a short while though, because, without fail, he would wake up 10-15 minutes later with the look of a man on a mission, and he would sidle up to the nearest person and begin to brazenly flirt with them.Somehow, though, Seung Gil had obtained a fifth gin and tonic and was surreptitiously sipping it at the corner of the bar, like he knew he wasn’t supposed to.--Five-drink Seung Gil isn't anything like Phichit would have imagined.
Relationships: Phichit Chulanont/Lee Seung Gil
Series: SeungChuChu Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621555
Comments: 17
Kudos: 68
Collections: Seungchuchu Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for SeungChuChu Week 2020, inspired by the prompt for day 1, "Friendship."

Seung Gil was drunk. 

Drunker than Phichit had seen him before. Drunker than the night in Hatsetsu, when he had flirted with the entire room and tried to kiss Nishigori. 

Phichit was familiar with the stages of drunk Seung Gil. They’d been friends long enough for him to know them all by heart. First, there was angry Seung Gil, where the smallest things would set him off, including someone bumping into him or accidentally splashing their drink on the floor— not even on him. He would glare the offender with a look that could wither flowers until he was left alone to drink more, mumbling how he’d need more alcohol to get through the party. 

Luckily, angry Seung Gil was quickly followed by subdued Seung Gil, where he’d get quiet and wistful and drop ancient Korean proverbs in the middle of conversations, often without prompting. Next came sleepy Seung Gil, who would suddenly fall asleep wherever he was (Phichit even caught him sleeping while standing once). The naps only lasted a short while though, because, without fail, he would wake up 10-15 minutes later with the look of a man on a mission, and he would sidle up to the nearest person and begin to brazenly flirt with them. 

But the other skaters had always cut him off before he reached the next phase, depositing him into his bed and turning off the lights before he could do something he regretted (like try to kiss a married man. With children). 

Somehow, though, Seung Gil had obtained a fifth gin and tonic and was surreptitiously sipping it at the corner of the bar, like he knew he wasn’t supposed to. Phichit watched him look down at his drink, glance around the room, shrug, and then down the rest of the cup in one swallow. 

Now, Phichit wasn’t the most sober person in the world, but he was lucid enough to know that the bottom of that glass meant trouble. Deep down, however, Phichit was bursting with excitement, because the bottom of that glass _also_ held a side of Seung Gil that Phichit had never seen before, and he was dying to see what (and who) it was. 

He turned back to his conversation with Yuuri and Christophe. “Look, he _finished_ it!” Phichit said, pointing excitedly at where Seung Gil was sitting (still alone) at the bar. 

“My goodness.” Yuuri shook his head. “He’s drunk a lot tonight. Do you think he’ll be okay?”

Phichit had not considered that. He frowned and then opened his mouth to say something, but just then Victor slid into the booth next to Yuuri. 

“Who’s not okay?” Victor asked. 

“Always itching for the story,” Chris smirked. Victor scoffed. 

“I’m not always interested in drama, Chris, I simply want to know if everyone’s having a good time! It’s my party, after all.”

“Vitya, you can hardly call ‘inviting people from Four Continents to after-dinner drinks at the first tiki-themed bar that came up on your google search’ a _party_ ,” Yuuri chided.

“But of course I can!” Victor retorted. “And since it’s my party, another round of pina coladas— on me!”

The crowd of skaters cheered, and Victor waved at them cheerfully. Yuuri sighed, but Phichit still saw him slip a hand around Victor’s waist and squeeze. 

Their drinks came in hollowed-out coconuts, and while Phichit was not partial to pina coladas, he had to admit that an umbrella in a drink, as JJ claimed, _did_ make the drink more fun… and maybe even taste better. He was halfway done with his coconut when he caught Seung Gil in the corner of his eye. In the excitement of free drinks (and afterwards, shots), Phichit had all but forgotten about the mysterious fifth-drink Seung Gil. He reprimanded himself— Seung Gil could have been on his next drink by then, and Phichit would have totally missed it!

To his surprise, Seung Gil still remained seated at the end of the bar. He didn’t look like he was moving— Was he sleeping again? What a disappointing surprise that would be— maybe five-drink Seung Gil was just sleepy Seung Gil: the sequel. 

Phichit excused himself from the booth and made his way over to where Seung Gil was sitting. As Phichit made his plan on how to most effectively carry his friend out of the bar, Seung Gil looked up at him and—

There were tears in his eyes. Seung Gil was crying?

Phichit rushed over, swiping a napkin from the bar as he passed. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, frantically offering the napkin to Seung Gil. Phichit had never seen Seung Gil cry before, but years of living with Yuuri meant that he had plenty of comforting skills. 

Seung Gil looked at the tissue, and then set his chin down on the bar. “No,” he responded, looking forward. 

So five-drink Seung Gil was sad Seung Gil. Phichit felt a stab of guilt for his excitement earlier. 

Phichit squeezed into the seat next to him. “Um… what’s wrong?” he asked. Their conversations had rarely been this vulnerable, but he didn’t think that Seung Gil would respond well to head pats and a hug, so he was giving it his best shot. 

Seung Gil didn’t respond. He just kept staring forward. 

Okay, so maybe Phichit should have expected that. Time to switch tactics. 

“Would you like some of this pina colada?” he offered. Maybe, if Phichit could get Seung Gil drunk enough, he’d move onto the next stage of drunkenness which— hopefully— wouldn’t include anymore tears. 

Seung Gil picked up his head and eyed the coconut suspiciously. “What’s in it?”

Progress! Seung Gil seemed to be distracted, at least a little. Phichit had to stop himself from getting too excited. He cleared his throat. “It’s pineapple, coconut, and rum, all blended together!” he explained. He pushed the drink towards Seung Gil. “It’s really good, and here they serve it in a hollowed-out coconut. Talk about authentic!”

Seung Gil scrunched his nose, which was strangely expressive for him. Phichit tried not to notice how red it still was. 

“No thanks,” he said. “Sounds too sweet.”

“Oh, that’s ok,” Phichit said. “I guess there’s more for me then! Um, so what kind of drinks do you like?”

Seung Gil sighed, and then spoke. “I have no friends.”

Phichit blinked in surprise. That answered one question, but not the million others that were popping into Phichit’s head. 

“Uh… can you… Elaborate?” he asked. “If you’re okay with that, that is, I don’t want to pressure you or anything if you don’t want to talk about—“

“I don’t think the other skaters like me,” Seung Gil interrupted. He was clearly caught up in his own mind, not paying attention to what Phichit had to say. “No one has talked to me tonight. They only like me when I’m drunk.”

Phichit’s heart broke a little when he heard that, but he had to admit that Seung Gil had a point. The other skaters often found him abrasive, so they kept their distance. Unless he was drinking, of course, and then they watched with rapt attention as he transformed from the stone-cold athlete they knew into the life of the party, trying to tell as many people as possible how exactly he would like to kiss him. 

But they all did it from a distance, and Phichit was guilty of it as well. 

He realized he’d been quiet for a few moments when Seung Gil sighed loudly and dropped his head back onto the bar. Phichit had to think quickly to salvage the situation that was quickly devolving in front of him.

He thought on his feet. “Seung Gil, how could you say that? I’m your friend!” 

Seung Gil looked at him in confusion. “No, you aren’t.”

“What do you mean,” he asked. “Of course you are, we hang out together, and—”

“You can’t be friends with the person you like,” Seung Gil said.

Phichit blinked slowly as understanding dawned on him. A person Seung Gil likes… _him_?? Seung Gil _liked_ _him?_

Phichit had never considered them anything more than friends, especially since Seung Gil was not one ever to drop hints that there was something more. How long had he been feeling this way? And why tell him now?

Phichit knew Seung Gil wasn’t good with social cues— did he think that it was just fine to tell his friend (one of his few close friends, Phichit knew for a fact) that he had a crush on him? Like it wasn’t some _earth-shattering, jaw-dropping, heart-absolutely-stopping_ news?

Phichit was too drunk to process this information. 

Or maybe he was just overreacting?

In any case, he had been silent for too long (again) and Seung Gil was pushing away from the bar and getting out of his seat. He rubbed his nose, staring at the back of the chair for a moment before pulling his jacket off of it.

“Wait, where are you going?” Phichit asked, scrambling out of his chair as well.

“Hotel.”

“Um, how are you going to get back?” 

Seung Gil shrugged and looked away. “Walk.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Phichit was concerned with Seung Gil’s mental acuity, but he was already putting on his jacket as he walked away. 

Phichit stumbled through the tables to catch up with him. “Seung Gil, wait!” he called.

Seung Gil didn’t turn around, just gave him a wave and left through the front door, leaving a very confused Phichit in his wake.

Phichit stood there for a full minute, shocked, confused, and trying to process the conversation in his mind.

From nowhere, Yuuri came up behind him. “Phichit? Are you… alright?”

Phichit dropped his head into his hands. “Seung Gil just told me he likes me, and I don’t think I handled it very well,” he said dejectedly. Yuuri’s eyes widened.

“What? What does that mean— wait, and where did he go?” Yuuri asked, looking around the room. 

Phichit waved his hand in dismissal. He was already feeling abysmal, and having Yuuri interrogate him was not helping. “He left.” 

“He left? By himself?” Yuuri asked, his voice high and concerned. “Is he not drunk? Does he know his way home?”

“I don’t know! Why are you asking me?” Phichit asked, dropping down into the nearest booth. 

Yuuri scoffed. “Peach, I know there is a lot going on, but let’s focus on the problem at hand for a moment,” he said, and took a seat next to Phichit. “Now, our _friend_ just ventured out into the streets of Toronto with _no idea_ about where he’s going, not to mention he’s drunk. We have to go find him!”

All of a sudden, the stupidity of Phichit’s actions hit him. How idiotic was he to let Seung Gil, drunk and sad, leave the bar alone in a place he’s never been before? Especially since the very reason Seung Gil was upset was that he didn’t feel like he had friends— well, if he had doubts before, Phichit letting him leave, _alone,_ would have only validated those feelings. Phichit groaned. He was so, so stupid and he had to find Seung Gil.

“God, you’re right! What am I doing?” He said. “We _have to find him!”_

Phichit leaped out of the booth and made a break for the door, his thoughts trained only on finding Seung Gil.

“Wait!” Yuuri called after him. “Where are you going?!”

He skidded to a stop. Right. Phichit also didn’t know anything about the area, and trying to retrace Seung Gil’s steps would be pointless, not to mention that Yuuri would have to track down two drunk idiots instead of one.

He sheepishly made his way back to the booth. “Sorry about that. So... how far is the hotel?”

Yuuri pulled out his phone. According to Google Maps, they were only a few blocks from the competition rink and another block back to the hotel. With the numbers of skaters they had at the bar, they could systematically search the neighboring areas in teams of three, spreading out in a 0.5-mile radius that would encompass the square meterage that Seung Gil could have walked in the time that had elapsed— 

Just then, Phichit’s phone rang. 

“Who is it?” Yuuri asked. Phichit squinted at the screen.

“I think it’s the hotel,” Phichit said, confused. He answered the phone, Yuuri continuing to scroll through Google Maps next to him.

“Hello?”

“Hi, yes, is this Mr. Chulanont?”

“Um, yes. That’s me.”

The man on the line cleared his throat. “Well, we have a bit of a strange situation here, you see, a young man by the name of, um,” the man paused, mumbled something Phichit couldn’t hear, and then continued, “—‘Seung Gil Lee’ trying to access his room—” Phihcit elbowed Yuuri and mouthed _It’s about Seung Gil!_ “—but it seems he’s lost his room key and has no identification on him.” 

“How did he get there so fast?!” Yuuri whispered. Phichit shrugged.

“He said that I should ‘call his friend Phichit Chulanont,’ the, and I quote, ‘famous figure skater’ who can verify his identification. We have it in our records that you are staying at the hotel for the Four Continents tournament this weekend. This man also claims to be a skater with the ISU. Would you be able to verify his identity?”

“Um, yeah. I can. We were actually looking for him, so I’m glad to know he’s back!” Phichit said, still very much confused, but relieved to know Seung Gil was okay.

“Very well. We will have someone escort him to his room,” the man said.

“Thank you. We— I really appreciate it.”

“Good day,” the man said, and then hung up the phone.

It took Phichit several seconds to process what had just happened, and he did so by staring at the phone in his hand in shock.

Finally, he turned back to Yuuri. “So, I guess Seung Gil is safe?”

“Yeah, what the hell,” Yuuri said, running a hand through his hair. He took a deep breath. “Well, that was a surprise.”

“You could say that again,” Phichit said with a weak smile. The scare had left him stone-cold sober, and he was feeling very tired all of a sudden. Yuuri threw his arm around Phichit’s shoulders.

“Come on, friend. Let’s sit down. We have a lot to discuss, and it looks like you need another drink.”

Yuuri was a good friend. Phichit nodded wearily, and they walked back to their booth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their night at the bar, Phichit has some he wants to talk about with Seung Gil. Unfortunately for him, Seung Gil isn't exactly in the mood to listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY PHICHIT HERE'S A FIC UPDATE

Seung Gil was back to normal the next morning. So normal, in fact, he waved to Phichit at the line for the continental breakfast with a blank expression on his face, before piling up his entire plate with sausage and bacon. 

Yep, that checked out.

But what Phichit couldn’t wrap his head around was Seung Gil’s abnormal confession last night. Phichit had gone over the conversation in his head for hours last night, first at the bar, and then alone in his room as the sun started to peek into his windows. He wasn’t sure whether he was just being dramatic, but he’d never had anyone confess their feelings to him before!

Usually, when Phichit entered romantic relationships, the first steps were always the hardest. The uncertainty, the pining; it was hard not knowing where the other person stood, what they wanted. Phichit would dance around a confession for weeks, trying to subtly flirt his way out of telling the other person how he truly felt. Phichit was the master of seduction, of innuendoes, of reading in between the lines, but never before had someone just flat out told him how they felt before. What kind of game was that?

Phichit sighed. There was no use in overanalyzing the moment, because it had already passed and he needed to think about his exhibition skate later in the day. He grabbed some food from the buffet and sat down at a table by himself. He connected in his headphones and began to recap his skates from the competition, mentally critiquing his form as he picked apart the routines. He was even starting to feel better, the memory of last night fading behind the sounds of Terra Incognita when someone plopped down in the seat in front of him.

Phichit whipped his head up to find none other than Seung Gil Lee sitting across from him with what looked like his second helping of breakfast. 

Everything that Phichit was trying to repress flooded back in an instant and his eyes widened.

“Seung Gil! Uh… hi!” he stuttered. Why was he being so awkward?

“Can I sit here?” he asked, even though he was already sitting and taking a large bite of his sausage patty. 

For some reason, the casual nature of his question made Phichit panic. He pushed back from the table and stood up abruptly.

“I, um— I have to go!” he said, frantically gathering the remnants of his breakfast into his arms. “See ya later!”

Before he could hear Seung Gil’s answer, he sprinted away.

Once safely back in his hotel room, Phichit called Yuuri.

“Hello?” Yuuri sounded a little sleepy, and Phichit felt guilt rise in his throat. But he needed a friend. So he forced a smile and answered. 

“Yuuri! Hi. Sorry to wake you up, it’s just— code red.”

Yuuri paused on the other end of the line. “Code red?” He asked. 

Phichit took a breath. “Yep. Red,” he confirmed. 

“Be there soon,” Yuuri hung up the phone. Phichit flopped back onto his bed with a groan. 

Two minutes later, he heard a knock on his hotel room door. Phichit opened it to find Yuuri standing there, dressed and holding two steaming coffees. 

“My god, you move fast,” Phichit said, letting him in. Yuuri kicked off his shoes with a shrug. “You said code red, so I came,” he said. “You’re still wearing your shoes? I guess this is really a code red.”

Phichit looked down to see his converse still fully laced on his feet. In his panic, he even forgot to take his shoes off at the door. God, he was a mess. 

Yuuri wordlessly held out the coffee. Phichit took the styrofoam cup and took a steaming swallow, burning his tongue but also calming him down from the inside out. 

It was ok. He could do this. 

Phichit sat Yuuri in the bed while he paced around the room. 

“So, I saw Seung Gil at breakfast,” Phichit began. “Which, like, normally, would be totally fine, but he didn’t even _mention_ the thing from last night!”

“Is that not… a good thing?” Yuuri asked tentatively. 

“That’s what I thought, at first,” Phichit said. “But then, he sat down next to me, and I totally freaked out.”

Yuuri nodded. He must have sensed that Phichit had more to say because he was quiet while Phichit paced. 

“I wasn’t sure at first. But I am worried about ruining our friendship, ‘cause he sat down next to me, and I couldn’t forget what had happened last night, and what he said to me. I felt guilty because… well, because I don’t feel the same way,” he said. It felt good to admit it out loud.

Phichit stopped pacing and sat down wearily on a chair. “How am I going to let him down gently, but also show him that we can still be friends?”

Yuuri nodded. “Especially since he was so hung up on not having friends last night.”

“Exactly,” Phichit groaned. 

“Yeah, that’s a tough one,” Yuuri said. “But peach, you gotta be honest with him. I know it might not feel great right now, but the only way to be a good friend to Seung Gil is to let him down easy and not drag him along.”

Phichit opened one eye skeptically. “Do I have to?” He asked. 

Yuuri gave him a sad smile. “Unfortunately,” he said. “But it’s okay, we can plan out what you’re going to say.”

“Bless you Yuuri. You’re such a good friend,” Phichit said. “Seung Gil needs a friend like you.”

“He has one,” Yuuri said firmly. “Now all we need to do is make a plan, and you and Seung Gil will be back to normal in no time.”

—

Phichit’s exhibition skate went off without a hitch. Placing in the top three in Four Continents was no small feat, and Phichit was more than happy to bask in the praise. The contestants lined up across the podium, Phichit standing tall in third place, and posed for pictures as confetti rained down. The final day of competition was always his favorite, because not only did he get to celebrate his achievements, but he always got the best pictures. Skaters young and old posed for selfies on the ice, filming funny videos and congratulating each other in their limited English. 

Phichit spotted Seung Gil across the rink. Now was as good a time as any to talk to him— Seung Gil had never been one to stick around the banquet for very long— so Phichit started to make his way over to him, pausing every few feet to pose for a picture.

When he reached Seung Gil, Phichit opted for tapping him on the shoulder as the music blared. Seung Gil seemed surprised to see him. Phichit smiled and turned them towards the nearest camera to throw up a peace sign, and then motioned him away from the photographers and the noise.

Seung Gil followed his lead and they glided over to the side of the rink.

“Hey, Seung Gil,” Phichit started, suddenly nervous now that Seung Gil was in front of him. Was he going to be angry at Phichit for rejecting him? Sad? Relieved?

Would he say anything at all?

Seung Gil nodded a hello, and Phichit smiled again, trying to push past his instinct to stall. He needed to get it over with and just _tell_ Seung Gil. He needed to be a good friend.

“So, um, I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night. At the bar,” Phichit started. Seung Gil tilted his head slightly but didn’t say anything.

“I really wanted to say— um, first, thank you, because what you said was so nice and I really appreciate you telling me how you felt, you know, but I also wanted to let you know that I don’t feel the same way, but it’s okay, because just ‘cause I don’t have romantic feelings for you doesn’t mean that we can’t still be friends, because I value your friendship very much.”

All the words came out of Phichit in a rush, and he was out of breath by the time he finished speaking. Phichit decided to test his luck and sneak a glance at Seung Gil. He was staring back at Phichit blankly.

“What are you talking about?” Seung Gil asked.

Phichit’s brows knit in confusion. “Last night!” he says, a little bit indignantly. “When you told me that you liked me!”

Seung Gil just stared at him, an inscrutable expression on his face. He seemed to be studying Phichit and Phichit’s face went hot.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Seung Gil said, and he skated away.

Phichit’s eyes widened. Why didn’t Seung Gil remember their conversation? There is no way he was _that_ drunk last night.

Did he think Phichit is making the whole thing up?

Phichit whipped around, scanning the ice for Yuuri. He needed his best friend and he needed him _now._

But Yuuri was nowhere to be seen amongst the skaters or the coaches, and to that point, neither was Victor…

Phichit took a quick lap around the rink, ignoring the paparazzi and eager fans that waved at him expectantly. Phihcit could only focus on one thing and he was spiraling fast. Why did Seung Gil deny any memory of the conversation that they’d had last night? It didn’t make any sense to Phichit. Why would Seung Gil lie to him?

Phichit stepped off of the ice and grabbed his duffel bag from the bench, heading for the locker rooms. Before he had even left the stadium, he dialed Yuuri and hit call.

After three rings and no answer, Phichit tried again. This time, Yuuri finally answered.

“Phichit?” he sounded out of breath. 

“Yuuri, thank god, we’ve got a Code Purple,” Phichit said.

“...Code purple?” Yuuri asked. Phichit heard someone laugh in the background, and then the sound of Yuuri shushing.

“Yuuri, who is that?” the voice whined, distinctly Russian. Phichit rolled his eyes.

“Yes, code purple,” Phichit snapped. “I needed something more urgent than code red.”

Yuuri sighed into the phone. “Okay, give me ten minutes.”

Phichit felt guilty, again, for interrupting his best friend in the middle of whatever sexcapades he was enjoying, but Phichit always answered the phone whenever Yuuri needed Victor advice, whether that was day or night. Phichit figured he had a few favors to cash in.

“Thank you, Yuuri. You’re the best,” he added.

“I’ll meet you in your room,” Yuuri replied, and Phichit heard Victor in the background again. “Only ten minutes? That’s hardly enough time—”

Phichit hung up the phone before he could hear anything else.

—

Back in the hotel room, Phichit paced at the foot of the bed until Yuuri knocked on the door again, looking flustered but no worse for wear. He sat on Phichit’s bed and Phchit walked back and forth in front of him, just like they had this morning.

_De ja freaking vu._

Phichit was furious, confused, and frankly, disappointed in Seung Gil’s answer. It was unfair that Phichit had stayed up all night, worrying over how to let Seung Gil down _easy,_ and Seung Gil didn’t even have the decency of telling him the truth. 

He told Yuuri this, words flying faster than when he’d talked to Seung Gil. 

Yuuri watched Phichit’s rampage and, to his credit, did not tell him to calm down, which Phichit greatly appreciated. Even though his adrenaline was higher than it had been during his exhibition skate.

“I just don’t get it!” Phichit groaned, exasperated. “Why would he lie to me? Seung Gil is the most straightforward person I know. And I gave him the decency of being honest with him, even though he practically _insulted_ me last night by telling me we weren’t friends! Are we, or aren’t we, Seung Gil?” Phichit asked, gesturing wildly towards his door as if Seung Gil were standing outside of it.

Yuuri nodded. “These are all valid points, Peach—” 

“Thank you!” Phichit interjected.

Yuuri smiled and continued on. “—But have you considered that he might have been embarrassed? You did tell him you didn’t have feelings for him in the middle of the arena.”

Phichit paused his pacing. Now that Yuuri mentioned it, that probably wasn’t his best move. But that didn’t mean that Seung Gil could just write him off...

“And besides,” Yuuri said, his voice oddly soothing. “He may not have even remembered. He did drink a lot last night, you said so yourself. Maybe— and don’t hate me for this— he is telling the truth?”

Phichit sighed. “I could never hate you Yuuri,” he said, and he sat down on the foot of the bed.

Yuuri made a lot of good points, ones that Phichit had not even considered as he’d stormed through the hotel this afternoon. Maybe he’d been looking at this thing all wrong— maybe Seung Gil, the master of never showing his emotions, _was_ embarrassed. Phichit knew how little he liked to talk about his feelings, so the next best option would be to ignore them. 

“You’re probably right,” he admitted.

And when Phichit acknowledged them out in the open like that, well, Phichit could see how what he’d done could have seemed like an ambush. Phichit suddenly regretted all of his actions. What Seung Gil needed wasn’t a confrontation or a heartfelt talk, he just needed Phichit to let it go. Phichit had done the exact opposite.

He groaned again, loudly. “I feel like such an idiot. I got so worked up over nothing, and I ended up making things worse!” Phichit dropped his head into his hands. “I’m always so sure about my decisions, but when it comes to Seung Gil… why do I never do the right thing?”

Yuuri laid a comforting hand on his back. “I get it. You should have seen me with Victor. I know you heard all of the embarrassing stories but,” Yuuri chuckled to himself. “But it was so much worse in person. I was constantly misreading his signals, always saying the wrong things at the wrong times.” 

Phichit laughed a little too, because he remembered having coach Yuuri through his early relationship with Victor. Yuuri was so oblivious back then, and he was so unsure of himself. Phichit helped Yuuri craft texts for Victor on more occasions than he could count.

Yuuri smiled. “It’s just like that with the person you have feelings for, you know?”

Something clicked inside Phichit’s mind, and he looked up at Yuuri. “The person I have... Feelings for?” he asked slowly.

Yuuri’s eyes widened and he scrambled away from Phichit. “No, I didn’t mean like that, I mean— I did mean it like that, but I didn’t mean to offend you— I mean, I just think, well, Victor and I both do—”

“Yuuri, Yuuri, please, stop rambling. I’m not mad, just,” Phichit takes a deep breath. “Explain, please.” He smiled, trying to reassure him.

Yuuri adjusts his glasses. “Well, I just… I saw the way you were watching him last night. And I know you guys are close friends; you’re probably the closest friend that Seung Gil has in the skating world. And it just seems that maybe, after everything, that you have feelings for him?”

Phichit stared at Yuuri. He was a little dumbfounded, a little confused, but mostly— he had to admit— he was curious.

He nodded for Yuuri to continue. 

“Look, Peach, think about it. Why else would you be so hung up on the fact that he likes you? And you were so mad when Seung Gil denied it all… could it be because you have feelings for him too?”

“Do I have feelings for Seung Gil?” Phichit echoed. It all started to make sense, the wild rollercoaster of emotions that had taken him for a ride today. All he’d ever wanted to do was be a good friend to Seung Gil, to show him that he wasn’t alone. And when Seung Gil had confessed he wanted more, Phichit had taken that as a sign of failure on his part, instead of what it actually was— an invitation.

Had Phichit been misunderstanding those feelings all along? 

Phichit looked dejectedly at Yuuri. “I don’t know what to do,” he said, after a while. “But I feel like I owe Seung Gil an apology.”

“Maybe talk to him at the banquet?” Yuuri offers. Phichit shakes his head.

“I should probably just text him.”

“Good plan,” Yuuri said, and Phichit laid his head on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“It’s always hard in the beginning,” Yuuri said empathetically. 

“Yeah,” Phichit agreed. The first steps were always the hardest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit does something a little dumb, for love.

Phichit had always been great at talking, but it seemed like whenever things came to Seung Gil, he found himself at a loss for words. 

After shooing Yuuri out of his room (insisting that he should spend some time with Victor since Phichit had pretty much monopolized his friendship the entire weekend), Phichit got to work on crafting a text for Seung Gil. He knew what he wanted to say— he just wanted to propose a meet up so that they could talk in person— but getting to that was the hard part. 

How should he start? Would a simple “Hey!” suffice, or did Phichit need some more context? Seung Gil was a person who wanted this straightforward and honest, and Phichit was trying his best not to do what he had been doing the entire weekend— beating around the bush. 

But it was against Phichit’s very nature to just drop a “We need to talk,” on someone out of the blue, no matter how much he and that person desperately _needed to talk._

Yuuri kindly texted him a _“How’s it going?”_ part of the way through Phichit’s drafting, but Phichit knew that if he told Yuuri he was having trouble figuring out what to say, Yuuri would quickly finish up whatever sexual act he and Victor were in the middle of and race to Phichit’s side. And Phichit was sure he would find the right words, no matter how frustrating the journey was. 

So he texted back, _“It’s going great! Waiting for Seung Gil’s response.”_ And was happy when Yuuri replied with a thumbs-up emoji and nothing else. Phichit hoped at least one of them was having fun. 

After another 15 minutes of deleting and retyping potential messages in his notes app, Phichit decided on a quick greeting complimenting Seung Gil’s technique (which he knew would win him over), followed by a brief explanation of his thoughts (so as not to alarm Seung Gil), and concluded with a proposition— essentially, _we need to talk_. 

_“Hi Seung Gil! Congrats on competition today. I was really impressed by your PCS score. You totally deserved it. Anyway, I was thinking about what I said to you earlier today during awards and I wanted to apologize in person. Do you have time before you return home?”_

It was, by far, the longest text Phichit had sent Seung Gil, but he hoped it was enough to convince Seung Gil to meet up with him. 

Phichit glanced at the clock, which read 10:13 PM. He was getting tired himself, but he decided to give it an hour or so before worrying about whether he had said the wrong thing. 

Luckily, Seung Gil had his read receipts on, so Phichit could tell if he was ignoring him. 

The hour passed uneventfully as Phichit scrolled through the photos from the day, editing the ones he liked and posting them to Instagram with a recap of the event. He posted at 11 PM, and immediately the likes and comments began to roll in like a self-affirming tidal wave. Only then did he permit himself to check his texts again. 

Seung Gil still hadn’t read the message. Phichit frowned at his screen. He contemplated typing a response, but then thought better of it— Seung Gil might find it overbearing. So instead, Phichit showered and got ready for bed, packing up his clothes and skate costumes for the next day’s flight. 

At 11:30 PM, Seung Gil still hadn’t read his text. Maybe Seung Gil was ignoring him at this point, Phichit reasoned. He had basically confronted Seung Gil in a crowded arena and rejected him publicly, so Phichit could see why Seung Gil wouldn’t want to read his message. 

Or worse, maybe Seung Gil had _blocked_ him. Now that would be a disaster, especially since Phichit had just discovered some new, exciting potential-feelings for him.

But Phichit had a morning flight, so he could either fret for hours or try to get a good night’s sleep. Phichit had never had any trouble falling asleep, so he turned off the light and called it a night— but not before turning his ringer on and his volume all the way up. 

And he was glad he did, because hours later, Phichit was awoken by the ping of his phone. 

He scrambled for the phone, blinking sleepily at the harsh light of the screen. It was early still, early enough that his room was still bathed in pre-dawn blues and purples. Phichit didn’t think the sun was up yet, and his suspicions were confirmed when he checked the time: 4:32 AM. 

Underneath the time, there was a message from Seung Gil. Phichit’s eyes widened as he swiped it open. 

_“Sorry I didn’t see this last night. I was asleep. Early flight today.”_

Phichit’s fingers flew across the keyboard with newfound urgency. He needed to see Seung Gil before they left— they needed to talk in person, and Phichit _needed_ to explain himself. 

_“Are you still in the hotel?”_ Phichit texted back, and a few moments later, his phone dinged with a reply. 

“ _Security line,”_ read the text, and Phichit’s heart sank. Now, he would never have a chance to apologize to Seung Gil or talk to him in person. 

His phone dinged again— a follow up text? Phichit quickly scanned the reply. 

“ _If you’re in the airport I can come to you. My flight doesn’t leave until 7.”_

Miracle upon miracles— Phichit had one more chance! He pumped his fists in the air, thanking the heavens that Seung Gil was ridiculously punctual and was one of _those_ people who arrived in airports hours before their flights. (Phichit had never been one to wait around the gate for long periods of time, so he took his chances with airport security. So far, he hadn’t missed a flight.)

Phichit’s flight wasn’t scheduled to leave until noon, but he was nowhere near ready to leave. Since he couldn’t check in early, he weighed his options, and then decided on the most spontaneous, possibly-stupid, idiotic plan he could. 

He called an Uber while he was brushing his teeth, so that when the car pulled up to the hotel lobby, Phichit was already standing outside. 

It was only a fifteen minute ride to the airport, but Phichit was on the edge of his seat the entire time. What he _wanted_ to do was intercept Seung Gil before he crossed through security, but just in case he didn’t make it in time, Phichit had a backup plan. 

The Uber pulled up to the airport, just as Phichit’s phone dinged with a text. 

_“Passed security. I’m at my gate,”_ Seung Gil’s message read.

And then, a moment later, _“D26.”_

Phichit was disappointed that he would have to enact his backup plan, but the second text from Seung Gil made his heart stop— he had _voluntarily_ offered up information about where his gate was. Seung Gil must have wanted to talk to him; why else would he offer up his gate information, unprompted?

The thought spurred him, and he rode that high all the way to the ticket counter, where Phichit put on his best smile and hoped this little stunt wouldn’t get him on the No-Fly list.

“Hello!” he said cheerfully. 

The woman running the ticket counter seemed nice enough, and she smiled at Phichit. “How can I help you?”

Phichit plastered on his most charming grin, and answered: “I would like your cheapest ticket to anywhere.”

The ticket-counter lady regarded Phichit for a moment, scanning him head to toe. Phichit knew how he must look— bag-less, only equipped with his phone and a fanny pack slung across his chest. He hoped that this wasn’t a terribly unusual request, and that the woman would just assume he was a rich teenager hoping to jet set across the great country of Canada for a spur of the moment day trip. He hoped his accent wasn’t too suspicious, but as the moment dragged on and Phichit’s smile began to droop from exhaustion, he began to doubt his plan.

But it turned out that what everyone had said about Canadians was true, because the lady just nodded and offered a quick, “Sure, give me a moment!”

Her fingers flew across the keyboard and Phichit exhaled a sigh of relief. She squinted at the screen. “Looks like we have a flight for Ottawa, departing at 3:51 PM. It’s $240.”

Phichit didn’t know the exact dollar to Thai Baht conversion, but he knew it $240 wasn’t a small sum. But Phichit didn’t come this far to be turned away before security, so he pushed down the guilt and pulled out his mom’s credit card, forcing another smile. 

“I’ll take it!”

The ticket counter woman took his card and his passport, and a minute later, Phichit had his hands on a freshly printed ticket to Ottawa. It took a bit, but he finally passed through security and hopped on the shuttle towards the first terminal. It was there that Phichit texted Seung Gil back.

_“I’m almost at terminal 1,”_ he sent. Seung Gil read the message a minute later, but didn’t reply. That was okay, Phichit thought. He didn’t need any kind of confirmation— he was almost there.

Stepping off the shuttle, he scanned the signs until he found where he was going, trying not to impatiently push past the throngs of people slowly carting their luggage behind them. Phichit checked his watch— it was nearing 6, and Phichit was starting to get worried that Seung Gil would start boarding soon.

Finally, he spotted gate D26. Phichit scanned the rows of chairs until he found Seung Gil sitting off to the side, next to his coach. Seung Gil was using his phone, so Phichit smiled and dialed his number.

He watched Seung Gil pick up the phone. “Hello?” he answered; Phichit could see his lips moving.

“Hi,” Phichit said a little breathlessly, and then Seung Gil looked up and spotted him. Phichit couldn’t help himself from smiling.

Seung Gil hung up the phone and walked over to him, stopping right in front of Phichit. He didn’t say anything at first, but he didn’t look displeased, either— he was just waiting, Phichit realized, as he stared into Seung Gil’s dark eyes. Oh, right. Phichit had things to say.

“Um, hi,” he repeated. “So, you’ll never believe what I just did.” And then Phichit told him how he’d bought a fake ticket and spent an hour in line for security just to talk to Seung Gil in person. Which, Phichit realized, when he said out loud it made him sound the tiniest bit crazy. But Seung Gil didn’t seem deterred, he just tilted his head to the side, the smallest trace of a smirk on his lips. It made Phichit smile as he talked, despite himself.

“So, anyways, I did all that because I’m a little bit crazy, but also, I wanted to apologize to you. In person,” Phichit finished, scratching the back of his neck. He snuck a glance at Seung Gil, whose smirk had all but disappeared. 

“Go on,” was all he said.

Phiciht took a breath. “Okay, so I wanted to apologize, because I was wrong. I shouldn’t have confronted you in front of all of those people, especially about something you trusted me with. I was trying to be a good friend, but I…” 

He sighed. “I messed up. I was trying to be your friend but I did everything the wrong way. It’s just, when it comes to you, I can’t figure anything out! I feel like I never do the right thing, but, but…” Phichit paused for a moment, then looked Seung Gil square in the eyes and grabbed his shoulders, surprising him. “But it doesn’t matter, because I _care_ about you, Seung Gil, and I just want you to be happy. Whatever that means for you, whether that includes me or not.”

Phichit closed his mouth, letting his words hang in the air between them. And then, to his surprise, Seung Gil smiled.

And then, to his greater surprise, Seung Gil kissed him.

Phichit’s eyes widened, and his arms dropped from Seung Gil’s shoulders. For a moment, he was frozen, focused on the feeling of Seung Gil’s lips, warm and soft and gentler than he would have ever imagined— _oh god, had he been imagining?_

So Phichit threw caution to the wind and closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around Seung Gil, and sunk deeper into the kiss.

It seemed like hours passed between their parted lips, but Seung Gil finally pulled away, exhaling slowly. He pressed their foreheads together, and Phichit noticed his eyes were sparkling. 

“How did you know?” Phichit asked breathlessly.

Seung Gil’s lips quirked into a grin, as if Phichit’s question was amusing. “You spent $200 dollars on a fake ticket to come talk to me in person in an international airport at 6 in the morning,” he said. “I thought it was obvious.”

Was Seung Gil teasing him? For some reason, the thought made Phichit giggle, which spiraled into a full-on laughing fit. “I guess I was pretty obvious,” he said after a moment, when he’d finally calmed down.

“You know FaceTime exists, right?” Seung Gil asked, looking slightly concerned at this point. “You could have just called.”

“I know.” Phichit said. “But I had to see you and apologize in person.”

Seung Gil nodded. “I’m sorry too. About lying to you during awards. I was scared you’d reject me again.”

“No, don’t apologize, it was my fault—”

“It doesn’t matter, anyways. I was just surprised you hadn’t realized it yet.”

That took Phichit aback. “Realized what?”

Seung Gil blinked. “That you’re obsessed with me,” he said casually, as if his hands weren’t around Phichit’s waist and he hadn’t just kissed him in the middle of a crowded airport.

Phichit opened his mouth in indignation, but decided that he deserved it. So he closed it again, and instead opted for grabbing Seung Gil’s face in both hands and kissing him again.

“You were right. I’m totally obsessed with you,” he said.

Just then, an overhead voice announced that boarding had begun for Seung Gil’s flight. They both turned back towards the gate, where Seung Gil’s coach was glaring at them. 

Phichit grinned sheepishly. “I guess you have to go now.” 

Seung Gil nodded at his coach but didn’t let go of his grip on Phichit’s hips, like he didn’t want to leave, but like he also didn’t know what to do next.

“Call me when you land?” Phichit offered. 

Seung Gil perked up a bit at that. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll call you.”

Phichit pulled him into one last hug, and then nudged Seung Gil towards the gate. “Safe travels!”

Phichit stayed at the gate while the flight continued to board, and he waved through the window as the plane pulled away from the gate and disappeared onto the runway. He pocketed his ticket, promising to frame it later as along with his medal from this weekend, and called an Uber back to the hotel, where he found Yuuri outside of his door, poised to knock.

“Oh, Phichit!” he said, surprised. “I was just about to say goodbye.”

Yuuri then looked him up and down suspiciously. “Did you… get up early?” 

Phichit couldn’t contain his grin. “I went to see Seung Gil off at the airport.”

Understanding passed over Yuuri’s face and he smiled widely, patting Phichit on the back. “Good for you!” 

“All thanks to your advice, Yuuri,” Phichit said thankfully. “When’s your flight?”

“10. I’m about to head to the airport now,” Yuuri said. Phichit wished him a good flight and hugged Yuuri tightly and then bid him farewell. Once he left, Phichit entered his hotel room to finish packing for his flight.

He only had a few more clothes to pack, so Phichit took some time to reflect while he folded. It had been one of the most intense weekends and competitions Phichit had been through in a while. Phichit had learned a little bit more about communicating with Seung Gil, and a little more about himself along the way.

While Phichit had started out the weekend worried that Seung Gil didn’t have any friends, it turned out that they were already friends. And now, Phichit thought excitedly, they were becoming something even better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finished! Sorry for keeping everyone waiting for chapter updates for so long; I wrote this whenever I wanted so I appreciate your patience with my motivation.
> 
> Special thanks to [PeppyBismilk](https://twitter.com/peppiestbismilk) for beta reading this chapter and also being the patron saint of seungchuchu.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [PeppyBismilk](https://twitter.com/peppiestbismilk), my lovely beta!
> 
> Check out the official Seungchuchu week accounts on [twitter](https://twitter.com/seungchuchuweek) and [tumblr](https://seungchuchuweek20.tumblr.com/)! Also, say hi to me on twitter [@phichithamsters](https://twitter.com/phichithamsters) :)


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